


triplicate

by Mistropolis



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Child Abuse, Gen, HUGE ENDGAME SPOILERS, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Self-Harm, Slurs, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, Vigilantism, also me: writes a pre-game fic for no reason, but still. best to tag them, gotta fill in for the others, it's not in explicit details, listen there's only pre-game sai/ou in the tag, me: pre-game is evil, the terror of pre-uni entrance exams, very brief tho so don't worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2018-11-22 20:00:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistropolis/pseuds/Mistropolis
Summary: [ major v3 endgame spoilers ]The sign-up forms for Danganronpa is signed in triplicate.One for Team Danganronpa, one for the legal guardian, one for the participant themselves.The one they hold are as pink as the fake blood used in the show.





	1. Medicine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lil' note: the "first season" doesn't follow DR1, so there may be other depictions of violence. Also I add in a law in that world that justifies Danganronpa, an additional bit of world-building. Hope you enjoy!

The clock reads 8:30 when she first woke up. It now says 11:48. 

Toujou Kirumi is still not out of her bed.

The phone buzzes for perhaps the millionth time. Toujou finally musters enough to look at the screen.

_Are you up yet? Need a lift to the therapy group._

Kirumi slams down her phone, and gets back to sleeping.

 

 

★

 

 

Kirumi cooks herself a plain meal of bacon and egg, then turns on the TV.

"Today we see the debut of Danganronpa, a reality TV show that has been pitched two months ago following the legislation of the Death Accord." 

The TV screen fills with imagery of gore, teenagers lying dead on the ground surrounded by blood. The blood is pink. It's almost comedic.

"The Death Accord officially legalizes assisted suicide as acceptable, non-criminal acts. A fair act established in trying times." The news anchor drones on, his monotonous inflection juxtaposed against the imbrued, sanguinary background.

Of course, the whole scene is purely computer-generated, since they could not just spoil the very first episode.

Humanity is a mosaic of good and evil and other complexity, but still there's no way anyone would stoop this low, other than those already in the show. Kirumi re-assures herself of the belief as she drops a sugar cube into her coffee.

Certainly the show would soon dissolve like the sugar cube in her coffee, coating by coating, until its core is revealed to be nothing but foolish depravity. Until it disintegrates into a grim but hopeful reminder that people still cherish themselves enough not to lose sense.

 

 

★

 

 

Common sense won't stop the carnage. 

Kirumi coughs into her coffee, as she heard about the first case of assisted suicide. It is only the afternoon, and a man is already accused of the act. Thanks to the Death Accord though, the man could smugly brag about helping the homeless stranger "find peace" rather than serving jail time.

Still, it's only an isolated case. Kirumi is not stupid enough to think any of this would flourish into a beast. Plus, she has other things to worry after this cup of coffee and news.

Right now, in the kitchen room of her first client in months, Kirumi scans through a recipe book for the perfect hearty meal. Nowadays not a lot of people have heart beyond cold logic, but Kirumi is not one to argue about the plausibility of having a meal to warm one's heart.

"Toujou-san, are you ready to start?" The beldam croaks. 

"Just give me a few more secs, ma'am." It's all the same. What's the point of doing all these? Sooner or later, that beldam is going to die anyway. Kirumi doesn't understand why she should bother with hiring others to cook her meals when she could just settle for plain pre-packages food for energy consumption.

No less, Kirumi herself could settle for the job. It is but a matter of necessity. If this could help her to stay alive―

_Bang!_

Kirumi snaps out of her trance. Whenever this trance starts, it must has been a long time, because the soup is boiling. The sizzling sound signifies urgency.

Kirumi turns off the stove. The soup quiets down, but the bang still riccohets off her chest as something perilous and all-around bad.

She rushes to the beldam's bedroom, and finds her swaying body, swinging in rhythm like a pendulum losing power.

 

 

★

 

 

Kirumi may get money from her parents for this clusterfuck and for therapy, but she doubts it. She didn't even drive her mom to her own therapy this morning.

The repercussion is much worse. 

"No allowance this week. You had it coming, Kirumi. How many times did I tell you to be responsible?"

Her father's reprimand is nothing new, but still Kirumi's fists curl in themselves, the soft silk of her gloves the only thing stopping her palms from bleeding. 

"Are you ever going to listen to me seriously, or―"

"Yes, father, I understand." Then she stomps out, venturing into the winter. 

She did not move out of her parents' house so she could still listen to her father's incessant ramble. Nor did she move two towns away to keep any semblance of constant contact with them.

The cold keeps her aware. Aware of what is going on. It isn't good, because Kirumi wants to drown into the metaphorical cesspool of oblivion as much as she can. Fashions herself a functioning human that won't falter in the face of adversity. But what is she thinking? It's just watching people committing suicide and hearing her father's slander of her reputation, and she already wants to run away crying.

She decides to go back home and gives herself another cup of coffee.

 

 

★

 

 

The tally marks on her arms record how long it has been since she has stopped taking meds. The pain reminds her to be sensible, not sensitive.

This is the third cup of coffee she had drunk today, so the sandman is most possibly passing her by. She'll have to find something to keep herself entertained.

Danganronpa is playing right now.

Despite the bile rising to her throat whenever she laid eyes on the show's logo, her curiosity has not been quenched for a long time. It demands immediate attention.

Kirumi turns on the TV.

The visage of a dead girl, her appendages cruelly cut off, pops up on the screen.

It takes everything in Kirumi to hold in the scream and not spit out any of her precious coffee. 

 

 

★

 

 

Kirumi finds to her shock that it does become easier after the first time. 

The 23rd season, featuring decapitation, is no match for the brutality of the very first episode, but at least Kirumi doesn't scream anymore. For her, Danganronpa has become a way of life.

Most of the dissenters initially fought tooth and nail to take down the Death Accord and Danganronpa, but very soon their voices drown just like the victim of the third case of the 18th season. Booing had become cheers as more and more teenagers plunged into the show with zealous fervor, and soon the time slot for Danganronpa pushes earlier and earlier, until it is placed firmly in the 8:45 range. Until it goes from a Monday-to-Friday show to a daily show.

The decapitated victim is the SHSL Seamstress―someone Kirumi could nearly sympathize with after all those exposition on her tragic life, but then during the trial the murderer―the SHSL Model, who is also ironically her boyfriend―reveals a horrid side of her, and Kirumi loses all sympathy she had. 

She laughs along the jokes the SHSL Comedian makes up. She coos at how cute most of the couples are. She cries at how couples and friends have to separate when one of then were murdered or executed.

Just like the all-seeing eyes of the sadistic, monochromatic mascot bear, Kirumi takes in every moment of the game show, until it feels like it has encompassed all aspects of her life. When she can't remember her mother's therapy sessions. When she lets everyone phone call from her father idle.

When the tally marks and meds are both losing to the allure of Danganronpa.

 

 

★

 

 

Since it's become a daily show after the third season, each season only lasts 3 weeks, hence 21 days. 52 weeks in a year means 17 seasons, maybe more if there are bonuses. Unless there are hiatuses (usually between each ten seasons), Kirumi is absolutely occupied by every episode of Danganronpa.

But there are times when there are hiatuses, and Kirumi's depression hits back harder than ever.

Sometimes she went off to get another job until her father gives her allowance again. Sometimes she visits a suicide-pact website chatroom that she used to obsess over in her darker times.

Today she is on the website.

_maidofsadness: is nobody here anymore? are you all gone already? so selfish, you all, running off when you could've taken me along. taken everyone along until nobody ever comes here._

_maidofsadness: but i'm still here. why?_

The angry rant is normal by her standards. But the reply isn't.

_killertennis: im here too. how are you?_

_maidofsadness: oh, cut out the pleasantries. what about you? haven't seen you in ages_

_killertennis: nothing, just watching dr._

Her fingers float above the keyboard.

_maidofsadness: got anything interesting in it? not actually watching tv that much nowadays._

_killertennis: nah, you know, its just the same. same violent antics, same motives._

_maidoftennis: that's a lie. doesn't last season have a pretty impressive mastermind? couldn't had guessed it out if not for the detective protag._

_killertennis: so you HAVE watched. good to know. i thought youd call me crazy and cut out the friendship._

_maidofsadness: wouldn't do that for my life. wait. this is a suicide-pact website._

_killertennis: thx for the sharp observations. speaking of the suicide-pact, i actually kinda have an idea._

_maidofsadness: …………_

_killertennis: dont tease me with the ellipsis. basically, the plan is to participate in dr._

Kirumi's mind just stops.

_maidofsadness: joining in dr?_

_killertennis: ya, thats the idea. most charas are always just victims and murderers, remember?_

_killertennis: if we join, unless you actually have a secret agenda of winning the game, then we can die. dont even need to bother with killing ourselves._

_killertennis: who knows, maybe we will kill each other_

Kirumi silently turns off the laptop, and reaches for the tiny razor shard on her bedside.

 

 

★

 

 

Three years fly past, as fast as a falcon diving for its prey. Before you know it, Danganronpa is approaching the 50th season.

"Today we commemorate the golden jubilee of Danganronpa, with an extended episode." The news anchor drones on, his modulated intonation juxtaposed against the no-longer-computer-generated scene, still with dead teenagers lying around, still in puddles of fake blood. 

Kirumi is seventeen now. Years pass by, leaving nothing behind. The only thing she remembers is how calm and cathartic she felt whenever she watched Danganronpa.

She doesn't even remember her mother's funeral. No point in doing that when she had died in assisted suicide. Kirumi has every reason to think her father had just directly killed her, but who is she to argue? Investigating that would require the brain power of a Danganronpa protagonist, so she isn't going to.

It has also been a few years since Hoshi has asked her about what she thinks of his proposal, and despite Kirumi's desperate prayers he had continued to ask her about it.

_killertennis: in all honesty, i dont think anyone is here anymore. maybe they all go to dr. what do you say?_

_maidofsadness: i dont know._

_killertennis: we have to make a decision some day._

_maidofsadness: what if we don't? what if we just let this hang?_

_killertennis: youve seen for yourself. whats the point of living in this gloomy world? maybe this is our gateway to hell, or maybe this is the medicine that will finally cure us. maybe this is the change we've been waiting for._

Maybe she would find another way. Kirumi looks back at her long-expired meds and that ever so tiny razor shard at her bedside.

How long has it been since she had longed for them?

 

 

★

 

 

Kirumi goes out to buy herself some groceries.

Apples, peppers, potatoes pour into her basket. Toujou goes to the cashier.

"Move it!"

Kirumi becomes deer in the headlights, her heart jackhammering like it will burst out of her ribcage as a big-bodied boy with spiky hair comes up behind her, snarling like a coyote. 

"Wait!―"

The boy roughly shoves her to the side, and Kirumi attempts to batter him back, fist burrowing between his collarbones and neck. He yelps out in pain, spitting blood onto her night-black dress.

"Tch!… You fucking…" He wipes his mouth, blood still dribbling down his chin. 

Everyone in the grocery store stares at them.

Kirumi runs away before anyone could cheer her for her violent antics.

 

 

★

 

 

The first time Kirumi witnesses violence, her mother is strangling her older sister. Kirumi's aunt ends up okay, but despite the lack of charges against her, Kirumi's mom still needs to go to therapy.

The second time she did, her father is punching her mother. Scarlet patches blossom around her skin, and Kirumi quietly closes her bedroom door and tells her favorite bed time story to herself in heaving sobs. In between breaths Kirumi swore to herself that she would always strive to be stronger than her parents, strong enough not to become monsters like them.

The third time she did, she is the one exacting it. On a boy who might be rude, but is terminally ill. She beats up somebody who had it coming and not had it coming.

Kirumi boots up her laptop and types in Danganronpa's official website URL into her browser.

 

 

★

 

 

"So what kind of character do you want to be? Any preference of your SHSL talent?"

Kirumi fidgets around, close to rubbing her own gloves off. "Maid. SHSL Maid. I'm one myself, so I think the role would be easier for me to handle."

"I want to be… Someone that's caring. Someone who can take care of everyone else. Someone who can't possibly be violent."

"Someone… Everyone else would approve and look up to."

"Okay, the audition is over. I hope it hasn't been too stressful for you." The interviewer chuckles. Then she hands out three forms to her. "Just sign on this form and gives the green one to your legal guardians. You don't need their consent on this, just let them have it as evidence of you going to the show."

Kirumi reads through everything in relative ease, then prepares to sign as her eyes scan the last line of the contract, almost as small as fine print. 

_I sign this form out of my own free will._

She picks up the pen slowly.

_I sign this form out of my own free will._

Familiar cursive slowly inked onto the paper.

_I sign this form out of my own free will._

.

.

.

.

.

Toujou holds in her scream at the sight of blood sticking to the head of a very much dead Amami, a million thoughts racing in her head. All converging into one.

_I've failed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly sure how many chapters I will write, but for now I've already gotten ideas about pre-game!Maki, so maybe some more!
> 
> Also I got four more fics in my drafts as long as written a whole month ago, but this one I started writing 2 days ago is the only one I can get out. lmfao @myself.


	2. Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little warning for this chapter: there's some misogynistic slurs directed at Maki. There's only a few, but don't force yourself if that's too much!!

Harukawa Maki is a firm believer in justice. That's why she always make sure it is exacted in her sphere of influence.

Right now, she is bringing it to a boy who catcalls an eighth-grader girl.

"Please! I got my lesson! I swear!"

"Oh, then can I hear, what exactly is it? Tell me about the lesson, hmm?" Maki drives her heel deeper into the boy's back, subtly increasing in strength.

"I will, ah! Always respect my schoolmates and never harass girls anymore!… Please stop!"

"Maybe you should learn another," Maki's smile is as sweet as syrup, as lethal as poison. "that is; most of the time you shouldn't ever expect anything in your favor when you are the one in the wrong."

Then she places a strategic hit on his head with another stomp, leaving the boy to display for the students coming to school early the next day.

 

 

★

 

 

The teacher, as usual, has a brilliant smile plastered on his otherwise apathetic countenance when Maki approaches him for her report card.

"All A's again, Miss Harukawa! Keep up the good work!"

"I surely will, sir." Maki beams, her regular brand of apathy hidden deep in it. 

The other students clap half-heartedly, some with genuine admiration in their gaze, some with well-disguised resentment in their glare. While she is showered with adoration as she approaches back to her seat, the other students, specifically the male ones, chatter and gossips right behind her. About how she's a "fakeass bitch". How she is a "vapid slut".

Who are they to direct any ill will towards her? Those revolting, good-for-nothing assholes who can't do any shit thinks they have anything on Harukawa Maki?

Then they have another thing coming.

 

 

★

 

 

"What is it this time?"

"Just revising at my friend's house. Ayaka. Remember?"

Maki's mother seems to have frown a bit, but immediately shrugs. "Of course, honey. Go do what you have to."

 _Like beating the shit out of more dolts._ Maki hides the brief smirk on her face, and discreetly takes her baseball bat into her backpack.

"Big sis? You are heading out again?"

Maki freezes, feeling a slightly tight grip around her waist. "Momo? Why are you still awake?"

Momo flashes a big, innocent simper. "It's just 8:30, big sis. Ma still won't let me watch Danganronpa. Says it's part of the punishment."

"You forgot to give Erica her lunch again?"

"Yeah! It's so not humanitarian, big sis! What do I do?"

Maki nearly giggle at the usage of the word "humanitarian". Their adoptive parents are really good with all these big words. "In all honesty, Momo, you are just 13. You really shouldn't watch this stuff yet."

"But I'm so bored! There's nothing else to do!"

"Hmm… Then how about I stay and play with you?"

Momo's big eyes radiate enthusiasm and joy. "Big sis you are so nice! Big sis is the only one who cares about us!"

"No problem, Momo. It's what a quality big sis like me should do anyway." Her smile is genuine this time.

Maki leads Momo into the recreation room, and boots up a pinball machine.

_maki: hey guys, sorry i cant come along today. momo needs my immediate attention._

_◈prettymelody◈: really??? cant believe OUR big sis to leave us cold like that!! but its okay if thats momo, we understand the lil girl needs a break! have fun w/ her now!_

Maki mimes a kiss at her phone screen, and goes to enjoy a hearty game with her sister.

 

 

★

 

 

"Oh, big sis~~I want to play air hockey with you too!~~" Maki's girls clutch to her arm, their faces changing expression like a clown's. "Do we get to play too?~~"

"Stop it, you little shit." Despite the situation, Maki giggles too, joining in the laughing fit the other girls indulge in. Always good to have a laugh before the stupid lessons start.

"So how's things going in your foster home?"

"Nothing new, duh." Maki spews sweet nothing and non-sequiturs, watching as the girls all share awkward glances and become quieter. They all know the unspoken rule.

The bell rings, and everyone gets back to their seats. Maki only takes one step before she gets blocked in her path.

"Hey, Harumaki isn't it? The fuck have you done?"

Maki groans.  _Here comes the ultimate simpleton._

"Staying in my own lane like the vapid slut I am. And it's _Harukawa Maki._ I hope your ape-ish brain didn't devolve again, imbecile. Or is the word too hard for you?"

The bastard stews for a minute or two, then Maki barges through him to her seat at the back.

"Why didn't you and your girls go yesterday?"

Maki doesn't know what to expect, but this is definitely not what one of the things she could've thought possible.

"Because I have a personal life I have to tend to? And I'm not the only prosecutor around the neighborhood? Oh wait, you and your gang of schlemiels only pick on other unlucky kids, right? My bad," Maki takes amusement at how his countenance contorts. "you little Danganronpa wannabes only need to train yourself on hurting other little kiddies and no big bad wolves, right?"

"Harukawa, this isn't a laughing matter this time!"

"Since when is anything about you not a laughing matter?"

"That kid nearly starves to death."

Maki pauses. 

"… What?"

"You said you and your gals are going to take care of those dickheads, but you totally disappear on us!…" He strokes the back of his neck, as if trying to find more words to illustrate the entire picture. "Last night, we thought they were taken care of, but then we heard them bellowing at the kid about the whole no dinner thing, so we interfere…"

Maki's mind runs through a series of snapshots. First the picture of a crying kid. Then the picture of their parents threatening to make them sleep on the porch if they couldn't take care of the chores. Then the picture of the kid sleeping on the porch as the parents promised, sobbing and curling into themselves to warm themselves.

"Hey, you alright―"

"I'm fine. And I'm, kinda sorry about the jabs. No hard feelings."

Then she finally reaches their seat, heart beating abnormally slow. She wants to process everything in time. 

She wants to forget that she is the kid in those mental images.

 

 

★

 

 

Maki's grip on her prized baseball bat is painfully tight. If she clutches it harder, the bat may be inlaid with crevices.  _If_ she could.

Tonight she is leading six―no, eight of her best girls to the hunt. A relentless hunt against evils that only they could vanquish.

That Danganronpa wannabe punk, Momota, left quite a bitter taste on her tongue about the kid she forgot to rescue. Maki knows deep in her guts that it is irrational to bring every single kid's pain onto herself, but… How could she?…

"Harukawa-san… We are here."

A distinctly soft voice. Must be that newbie. "Yes, thanks for pointing out the obvious." Then, not wanting to discourage her, she speaks again. "I hope you all remember what we are doing here today. A rite, a ceremonial, whatever it is you like to call it, the thing that doesn't change is that we are doing this for the people. For our future."

"You all may like to think I'm being overdramatic, but I want you all to know… Do you really like the life you have now? And if we have to change it, what other better way then saving the foundation of society?"

The girls nod, but they all seem sullen. Maki hopes that's merely an illusion.

She knocks down the door to the house. The couple inside don't even sense their coming in their own brand of punishment. On a kid. 

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Maki's go-to line is simple, yet effective. As usual, those monsters are too self-absorbed to know how righteous the world had become. 

"Woah. Slow down there young lady―"

Maki's bat lands a hit at the father's stomach. She never aims for the head; the new law may protect them from serving jail time for accidental (or in the word of the law, "assisted") murders, but she won't take any chances, nor would she go easy on those bastards.

The woman lets out a yelp as the girls close around her and struggle to pry the child in her embrace. One is no match for a swarm; instantly, the child is in the girl's grips, the woman crying her fake tears and the child crying their joyous tears. 

_Release those children from these shackles, Maki._

_Definitely, big sis._ Maki's smile isn't exactly vicious as she finally strikes down the couple.

 

 

★

 

 

Maki smiles down at the kid they saved. The instant this child is released from those monsters, they didn't stop smiling.

"You are in good hands now," Maki pats the child's head and gives them a piece of candy. The child returns the smile, and Maki couldn't be happier.

Still. She couldn't handle the aftermath. That's the foster system's problems.

"Good thing that one up ahead is still open."

When they got up there, the usual receptionist is already there. "Got another already?"

"You know better than all of us how many crappy parents are out there." Maki tentatively puts the child on the seat next to the desk. "Save them. There aren't a lot of dedicated folks anymore."

The receptionist smiles a sour smile, and drags the child to their side. "Kid, how do I call you?…"

Maki gazes at the child's kisser, and knows her mission is done. For tonight.

 

 

★

 

 

"How is Momo now?"

"Pretty great. I mean, I'm taking care of her."

"I'm really glad you still have your sense of purpose, Maki,"

"I'm glad you were the one to enlighten me to it, too." Maki's voice carries an inflection of distinct joy, and she enjoys that. It's been some time since she could―

Wait.

"Maki? You there?"

"It's just… Something." Maki cuts the call and rushes up ahead, hiding behind a corner.

In her vantage point, she could see, oh so clearly, the receptionist forcing a child into a Dumpster.

 

 

★

 

 

"Bitch! Fuck―You!" 

The kid, evidently the one Maki saved just earlier, was sobbing their eyes out while trying to clean themself. Maki, on the other hand, is bringing divine punishment onto the monster.

"Please!… We just can't!… Take any more―"

Maki deafens her ears to the sinner's pleas and aims another wallop towards their chest. They are close to spitting blood.

"No fucking excuse you hear! You absolute fucking―"

Another trounce, right at their stomach. They are spitting blood now.

"We… Really don't have a choice…"

Maki snickers. A cruel sight to behold. "Choices may be hard, but they are never nonexistent. You can hand that kid off to some bored foster parents. You can give them to adoption centre. Hell, even talent scout centres. You don't have to do that―" 

"You thought!… We never think of that?" The monster's voice drops from another influx of blood out of their mouth. "We, could do those, but what's the point? What will become of them?" They make wild, flailing gestures. "We could've starved them. Or the foster parents do it for discipline. Or!… Those evil scout centres…"

"Answer me, young lady… What's the point of saving them if it's all for naught?"

Maki stays silent. Then she runs off, letting the fears in her head run wild.

 

 

★

 

 

"Big sis, what's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm just…" Maki twirls the pencil in between her fingers, mind stuck in the quandary of her homework. Then she throws the workbook away. "Momo, do you need to do any chores today?"

"Not really! But big sis, you look really upset just now." Maki finds herself less and less resistant to Momo's concerned stare. "What happened?"

"It's really nothing―"

"Maki! Momo! Come down here this instant!"

 _Shit._ Maki takes one step away from her room, Momo following in tow.

Down in the hall, Mother casts a steel-cold gaze at them, as they near the centre of it and see the scene of wreckage themselves.

A classic flower vase broken on the floor.

"Say, you two are the only one here today. Erica is still in school, and everyone else is at tutorial classes and extracurricular activities. Who did it?"

The steady, modulated voice hid a viper in it, ready to sink its teeth in. Maki can't let Momo be the prey.

"It's me. It has nothing to do with Momo." The lie comes as easy as breathing. "I… accidentally swung my bat at it."

Mother glares at Maki for at least two minutes, then unleashes the storm as expected. "Momo, how many times have I told you not to play football in the house?"

Maki blinks, which definitely would have looked like a fool's action if she says so herself. "But I said―"

"Don't think I don't know that you cover for her all the time, Maki. You really thought I don't know Momo's out there playing football instead of focusing on her studies?" Mother takes up a short wooden stick, far less deadlier than a baseball bat, but the pain… "Maki, go back up now. Momo needs some disciplining."

"No! You can't!"

"You are not actually the big sister here!"

"I am! I―" White floods Maki's visions, her hands clamped around something she can't identify. Then her grip loosens, and she falls to the floor.

 

 

★

 

 

"… Is that all that has happened?"

When Maki's eyes opened again, another flash of blinding white slowly takes shape as a bright light against a more achromatic backdrop. She raises her hands to rub her eyes, only to realize they are both in bandages.

"What?… What happened?"

At the sound of her croaky voice, Mother rushes forwards to her, trapping her in a suffocating hug. Maki could feel her lungs close to collapse.

"Maki! God I thought we lost you there!"

"Where?"

"You know? When Momo knocked that vase onto your head, and you were trying to pick up the shattered shards? Your hands broke all over! We were so worried they will never function again!"

Maki's head tilts on itself. Fragments of thoughts and memories dash here, there, sometimes obvious, sometimes obscure.  _Short stick. Momo crying. Broken vase._

"… Okay."

The police officers standing off to the side mock rubbing their eyes and snivel a bit. "If there's no other issues, we shall be on our way then."

While they traipse off, chattering and already forgetting about them, Maki wonders what happens to Momo, and tries to remember what it is that word used for describing the previous situation.

_Gaslighting?_

 

 

★

 

 

"So what happens to Momo?"

"Nothing. Just bawling her eyes out in the room."

Just as Maki reaches the stairs, Mother speaks again. "Oh, by the way, Maki, you seem to head out a lot at night. More revisions?"

Maki stares at the worn wooden handle. "Yeah. It's okay as long as I came back, isn't it?" Then she climbs up without another reply.

"Momo… Momo? Where are you―"

Maki turns the handle, pushes open the door, and finds an empty room.

Walls blanched, alabaster, ashen… Empty.

"Where is Momo?"

Mother puts up an impressionless face. "I told you. Bawling her eyes out in the room." Then she turns her newspaper around. " _But I never say which room._ "

Maki takes out her beloved baseball bat and points it at Mother's forehead. "Then tell me!"

"You know our practice, Maki. We pass the kid along if they are too difficult. I'm sure Momo is somewhere she likes."

"Like fuck she is!"

"Watch your language! Else, next time, it could be you!"

Maki lowers the bat and stomps up to her room. She packs up the few belongings she had; her clothes, her hairclips, her favorite books.

Then she walks down to the hall, and before Mother could stand up to stop her, Maki swings her bat to her stomach, then takes down the street, running.

 

 

★

 

 

"Esteemed student leaves home, brilliant future abandoned for what?" is the newspaper headline Maki could imagine would never be used for her disappearance. What does this society care about their fucked-up, angry teenagers? Nobody at her school, other than her little gang and their rivals, knows she has a different life out of being the most academically successful student with no personality.

After the initial bit of running, she slows down back to an amble. She takes in the view that she usually ignores in favor of the enemies she should focus on; vibrant and abstract graffiti depicting various profanities, revolting stains and cockroaches crawling on the walls, streetlights illuminating Danganronpa billboards proclaiming yet another season. Not a single soul around.

"Yo, Harumaki?"

"… Momota?"

The smoker takes out his pipe and coughs a bit, before stepping out of the darkness to survey her. "What are you doing here alone in the middle of the night? Where's your gang?"

"Nowhere. I left home."

"Huh?! I mean, I'm kicked out of my home, but what about you?"

Maki's tongue is stuck in brambles. "Not your business."

"Fine, whatevs. You interested in executing a sinner with me, if that's not weird to say?"

Momota points up ahead to a house, the only one still with light in a room. Crying and yells are sharply audible from there.

Maki tightens her grip on the baseball bat, and nods.

 

 

★

 

 

The baseball bat is now stained with claret, with Maki's other hand hugging the girl Momota and her saved from earlier.

"It's okay now, no more mean parents hitting you, don't worry…"

The girl's sob genuinely quiets. In contrast, the gripes and repines from the house become louder. 

"We are sorry! Please stop!" 

Beating the shit out of these dolts used to be much more gratifying, but now is so different. Why?

The girl in her lap speaks up for the first time. "Big sis, what will happen to my mummy and daddy?"

Cold water splashes over her. "You are… Bio-raised?"

"Y―Yeah…"

 

 

★

 

 

_The first time Maki saved a kid and executed a sinner, the kid introduced herself as Momo. The same Momo who would go on to live in her house before she displeased Mother (guardian, torturer) too many times._

_The first time Maki dabbled in this business, she was led by a Big Sis of her own, who gave her the baseball bat and the confidence to carry out justice of her own. Big Sis told her of this world's evils, and how only children could bring hope to this wretched world._

_So only saving children can transform the world._

_"That new law ensure that people can be excused in the case that deaths are involved, so no worries, Maki."_

_"But?… We won't really?…"_

_"Of course not! I'm telling you just in case."_

_Since Maki was still young then, she was only asked to look after the kids they saved rather than going in themselves. Maki knew Momo from then._

_"Big sis?"_

_"You could call me Maki instead if you want."_

_"Big sis Maki, what is happening to my da?"_

_"That's not really your da, Momo. Just some… bad person who tried to make themselves feel better by taking care of kids."_

_"But, big sis Maki, how could my da be bad if he gives me ice cream all the time?"_

_"… Ice cream isn't even good, Momo."_

_Momo mumbles a submissive "okay" and opts to play with her braids instead of pursuing the argument._

Kid doesn't even know she's wretched…  _Maki listens to the wails and cries emanating from the house, idly thinking about the world they live in._ A world that pushes talent onto kids and ostracize them if they don't shine…

_Then that thought creeps into her head._

What's the point of saving them if they will just end up in another hell?

 _Maki shook her head, rather violently, to throw the thought away._ No! This has to have some meanings. This can't be all for nothing.

But you know that's true, don't you? You know this world is full of talent-obsessed people who don't really care for their children. People with a shrewd tongue who convince you they'll take care of these children, but then turn around and act like those kids are their properties. What's the point of doing all these? Why don't you just―

_"No! I won't!"_

_Momo's frightened eyes shift to Maki's visage, and she was sure she had scared the little girl. "Big sis, ehh, are you?…"_

_"Oh, no! I'm alright, I just…" Maki looked into Momo's curious eyes and saw hope for a new world. It has to be that._

 

 

★

 

 

"Harumaki, you alright?"

"Nothing." Maki watches the kid flailing and struggling to get out of the worker's arms. She's crying about her parents.

"You are always so attached to these kids, aren't you?"

"Not your business." The girl is too tired to keep crying.

"Welp, that was nice working with ya. See ya later."

Maki kicks her shoes into the asphalt, cursing her naiveté. Running off with a backpack without any life-related utilities and items are about the most stupid schoolgirl thing she could possibly do. 

And the gridlock of her life doesn't end there. 

She takes one last glance at the girl, and follows the streetlights.

 

 

★

 

 

Maki has never watched Danganronpa in her life. She only heard rumors, eager chatters on the show from her girls. About how this show is inspiring and a beacon of hope to this world. Sometimes despair wins, but that's just mere setbacks, they said. Hope always win in the end, they said.

Maki has always scorned those comments, finding them to be bird-brained and time-consuming. 

But tonight, she finds it life-saving.

"Sorry we couldn't get up as early as possible, but anyway," The interviewer takes up a board and a pen. "what's your name, hon?"

It almost feels like they are just having a casual conversation and not an interview to death. "Harukawa Maki."

"What do you want to achieve by joining Danganronpa?"

"…Monetary gain."

"Right, we have those some seasons too. What do you want to be? Your SHSL, I mean."

"Assassin." That doesn't sound right somehow. "I mean, child… Childcare worker? I, I can't decide."

The interviewer smiles, rather benevolently. "It's alright hon, we can decide that further when you entered the participant list. Is there any specific qualities you want as a person in the game?"

"Someone…"  _Ruthless. Driven. Unforgiving._ "… Who doesn't hesitate to take actions when needed. Someone who takes matters to their own hands. Someone… Who doesn't… Let bullshit into their head."

"Alright, that's all for the interview." The interviewer hands out three forms to her. "These are the forms that will confirm that you are joining the show. If we selected you, you can take this form here to confirm that you are indeed a participant of Danganronpa Season 53. Just sign on this form and gives the green one to your legal guardians. You don't need their consent on this, just let them have it as evidence of you going to the show."

"Okay." She takes up the pen and signs her name on it. Without further ado, she takes up the other two forms and walk out of the building.

 

 

★

 

 

"Harumaki?… Are you sure?"

"There's no other way." Maki wants to say that, but realizes the inherent hypocrisy in the sentence. "People have to make hard choices sometimes."

"You are putting your life at risk! And just for some silly wishes…" Momota paces around the room, pipe still making smokes as he walks. "I mean… No offense, but making a good orphanage for kids? Just to have the money for so-called good people who care about kids? That's just―impossible!"

"Whatever. What you think is irrelevant to my decisions." Maki gets up and leaves the house, leaving behind a fuming, confused Momota to himself.

When she nearly reaches the building again, she finally remembers. The forms.

She takes out the crumpled green form. The words on it are identical to the pink form, except it's somewhat more politely-worded.

She tears up the form and throws the scattered bits to the nearest rubbish bin.

.

.

.

.

.

Above all else, Maki hates the white tone of Ouma's attire. It's symbolic of death and lacks distinguishing characteristic beyond a sense of malice.

But above that, Maki hates Ouma's childish, cruel personality, a void of humanity and decency. So it comes as no surprise to discover that Ouma is a Remnant of Despair.

It's time for a reckoning. Something to bring down the evils of the killing game and to bring back some semblance of justice to this world they live in.

She takes up the crossbow and leaves her room, taking down the corridor, running.


	3. Realism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weee a little bit more of world-building time~~
> 
> Remember in Toujou's chapter it is mentioned in the notes that the first season of Danganronpa doesn't correlate with DR1? It's because I hc that DR1 used to be an Internet stream that gains traction only to be ended when people got bored of it, until a huge corporation gains interest in it and restarts the show, except with real people as the Death Accord allows this bullshit. Hope that clears up stuff for you guys!

Down to Earth is not exactly how Himiko would describe herself with, but it's close enough.

She drags out a chicken from the small chest. "There. Another chicken."

Applause breaks out from the empty auditorium. Himiko casts her eyes down, towards her parents, who are tearing up happily, and her mentor, who is smiling.

She walks down the stage in bouncing steps, rushing towards them. "So? What do you think?"

"Excellent! Himiko, you are going far!" Her mother gushes, smiling despite the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"That is impressive for a five-year-old, so be proud of yourself, Himiko-chan," The mentor got up from their seat, walking over to her and patting her on her head despite her protests. "you will definitely become the world's best magician in no time."

 _Best magician?_ Himiko's heart flutters and leaps arrhythmically, but she keeps her eyes trained on her parents and mentor, so they will know she is serious. "I do know that. I'm sure this world will have a lot of competitors, but I will rise above them!"

"That's the spirit!" Her mentor cackles, leading her parents to follow, and Himiko knows she is setting herself on the right track.

 

 

★

 

 

When Himiko was ten, her magic tricks could astound everyone in her school. A rabbit from a top hat, a pile of ribbons from her sleeves, and they were all starstruck, all breaths stolen and all sense of logic lost.

And so, of course the latest variety show would be no different.

"Yumeno-san, can you really do the sawing trick?"

"Of course that wouldn't be a problem." Himiko paints a red smiley face onto the side of the "casket" prop. "I've started training when I was really young."

"Of course." The teacher had an insincere smile on her face, and Himiko wants to wipe it right off. Well, she would just need to show them all when the time comes.

Himiko pushes the casket out to the stage. Her schoolmates are all cheering and clapping their hands. Her assistant walks in from the opposite direction.

"Today, Himiko-chan will perform a trick well-known but hard to handle―the sawing trick!"

Himiko handles the trick with expert accuracy―the precise moment of putting the saw through the casket, to pull one half away from the other, and when to put it together again. Everything is perfect to a tee, with absolutely no error.

As the casket is put together again, applause rings out from every corner of the hall. Her mentor would've given her knowing, approving smile as well, too bad they aren't there.

 

 

★

 

 

When the show is over, a kid from a lower grade approaches her. 

"Yumeno-san, how do you perform the magic trick just now?"

 _What kind of question is that?_ Nevertheless,Himiko's antiphon is perfect. "It's simple, actually. I just hide a person in each half of the casket. They wear similar clothes to make people think they are the same person. One shows their head and the other their feet, and creates the illusion of a person being sawed in half."

"What do you do then?"

Really? Are they that stupid? "Why, obviously I coordinate the whole thing by directing my assistant and moving the casket halves around."

The kid's eyes turn knowing for a moment before they are filled with enquiries again. "Then you don't actually need to do anything then?"

Himiko is silent all for one second, then she recovers rapidly. But before she could utter a good retort, the kid runs away from her.

 

 

★

 

 

Himiko is browsing through the thirty-fifth magician website at 3:30 am. She knows her mom is tempted to yell at her about it, but Himiko ignores all attempts of distraction.

She looks through every corner and notch of these websites, reads every sentence on them, every picture.

Her mom is finally yelling at her. Himiko simply retrieves her headphones and the issue is dealt with.

This website just now promises an escape act worthy of the hall of fame, that would definitely impress and dazzle anyone watching. She plays the video and absorbs every detail.

It is an escape act that involves the magician putting themselves into a water tank and surviving for more than twenty minutes. Himiko nearly mashes her face against the screen to find out the magician's secrets.

Unfortunately, she finds it.

The magician simply has a hidden tube inside their suit that connects them with an oxygen tank. With this, the magician is merely obscuring the obvious view of the tube and stay in the water tank all relaxed for twenty minutes.

Himiko slams the laptop shut and cries. Her mom halts her yelling.

She silences her wails to sobs immediately, afraid to attract too much attention, even though she's merely in a house with her mom and a truckload of magic props.

Tears stain her eyelids, the visage around her unfocused and gaining monstrous shapes. The top hat becomes a ghost. The casket becomes an iron maiden.

"This is… This just is!…"

Himiko chokes back the sob. No. She can't just bow down to this. She wouldn't let herself give up on something she worked years on. 

But what is she to do now that she had already mastered all probable tricks? Make new ones?

Himiko steadies herself, wiping the tears off her eyelids. She re-surveys the website menu again to confirm no tricks up to her standards are present and moves to close the tab,

when her eyes catch onto a flashy ad.

The ad is quite small, so Himiko could nearly miss it. But the layout. The curious choice of using pink to cover up the gory details mystifies her.

She clicks on it, which redirects her to a different website. 

The website has the curious title of Danganronpa, whatever that is supposed to mean. It has a black background and more pink blood, the portraits of several high schoolers on it with solemn faces.

She clicks on the "Show Summary" tab:

 

_Danganronpa tells the story of sixteen teenagers trapped in a school, where its principal forces them to commit homicide in order to escape. In this horrid mutual killing game, who will survive to the very end?_

_Creator's notes: This is a previously a school project that is used for exploring the nature of humanity for me, but my friends watched it and said maybe I could expand more on it. So here it is! I hope my audience enjoy the extra hard work we put into this. Hiring professional actors are pretty expensive despite our previous efforts in public funding._

_Nonetheless, I hope this show could shed a light of hope on this world._

"Hmm…" Himiko can't pin down what exactly intrigues her just now, but she knows for sure she is definitely more interested now.

She clicks on the first episode and starts watching.

 

 

★

 

 

This show is astounding.

How is this show a web series? It definitely deserves its own airtime.

Then again, speaking as a twelve-year-old watching a show explicitly rated to be "for age 15 or above", she guesses she doesn't have a right to say that.

However, what really attracts her, if she had to be honest, is definitely the flashy executions. Everything about the executions screams glamour and brutality. Himiko can't tear her eyes away at all.

Does it make her a savage to enjoy the moment life bleeds out of the executed? This is not a question that has run through Himiko’s mind while watching, but definitely one that has after she has come down from the high of watching them.

Not that she cares. Not that she cares though.

 

★

 

“The show you just put on is one of the best I have ever seen! Yumeno-san, can you tell us how you did it?”

Had she been given the option to kick the mic into the reporter’s nose, Himiko would have gladly taken it. Except right now she is in one of the most prestigious circus trope shows, so she couldn’t quite risk the prospect of ruining her name, when it is burgeoning in popularity.

“I’m glad you have taken interest in my shows, but I’m afraid that I will have you know that,” She puts an index finger at her lips, a stage whisper accompanying her next words, her next show. “What the magician has done for miracles to happen is always secrets that no one except the magician should know.”

The reporter’s eyes dramatically open and close, open and close, and a burst of energy implodes from their own kind of stage presence nevertheless. “You are so so so very correct in that, Yumeno-san! Sometimes, don’t you guys just think that magicians who so freely give away their secrets are absolutely inane and not cut out for this job?”

“I wouldn’t like to dampen anyone’s passion for the crafts simply because they don’t have quite the hang on what being a magician entails, however,” Something that takes the shape of anger lurks in the edges of her smiling statement, and she makes sure that only the fake-smiling reporter could see her own fake smile. “All fields of arts should always be ready to welcome new beginners so they could flourish, isn’t that so?”

The reporter’s mouth hangs slightly open, but she quickly closes it with a forced smile and a nod of acknowledgement, then Himiko is finally left alone again, to the company of her own thoughts as all the other reporters were herded out of the venue like sheep.

Like sheep. Humans are indeed like sheep, how they always follow whatever order is given to them, and never once question it. Humans might be a natural at adapting to the changing world, but there is no doubt that they are nothing but mindless sheep when they never even think about whether the change is something they should’ve resisted inste—

“Himiko-chan?”

Himiko startles, and she looks back up at the source of the voice, which happens to be her mom. “Ma? What is it?”

“Nothing, I just noticed that you’ve been zoning out a lot. Are you doing quite okay?”

“Sure. I’m doing quite fine.” Is she really zoning out a lot? That’s one tiny thing she should remember not to do so much. “What else do you want me to know if there’s any?”

“Uh, not really, dear, I would just like to let you know that we should be heading home then, since there are no more reporters heckling us.”

Himiko nods, something that takes the form of shame starting to flay the edges of her nerves. “Right. Let’s go.”

 

★

 

The picturesque view of the metropolis outside carries a certain charm that Himiko couldn’t quite put down in precise details. The view looks almost plain if you put it against many other cities that are famed for their city lights, but the muted tones of it suit Himiko’s tastes better.

“Himiko-chan? You don’t seem to be very well ever since this afternoon when the show’s over.”

Mother’s voice barely reaches the edge of her consciousness, but Himiko meshes words well enough as a response nonetheless. “Oh, there’s really nothing wrong with me. I was just tired… and not thinking quite straight.”

“I don’t wanna sound like a bother, Himiko-chan, but you seem to be doing that quite a lot ever since you read up some news about this, um, what is it called? A TV show about a killing ga—”

Himiko’s spine snaps straight painfully. “What was that? Did you… did you look into my—”

“Oh, oh it’s not like that,” Mother’s speaking pace goes erratic for a few seconds there, but quickly turns back normal. “I only saw it because you were lying your phone on in the middle of nowhere and I need to look for it for you, remember?”

“… Right. It’s my bad for losing my temper like that.”

“It’s fine, Himiko-chan.” Himiko could almost feel a smile creeping up on Mother’s face. “Now, let’s just get back home and have our celebratory dinner, shall we?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

 

★

 

Himiko made a conscious effort to not rant at the TV show her Mother has now shown her with much fervour. Much unlike her, Mother takes everything of the show with zero critical distaste, unless she’s just hiding it very well.

Himiko clamps her hands down on her laps, resisting the urge to take up her phone and open the browser to that page. That page. With the video depicting the most beautiful magic tricks of all time—

“What is it, Himiko-chan? You look really out of it.”

Himiko bites down the scream threatening to erupt and shred her vocal cords. “Nothing much. I’m, I just don’t feel quite well now.”

“Oh, I guess I shouldn’t have made you watch boring old people’s TV shows with me after all,” Mother reasons with a chuckle on her lips, then she gestures towards Himiko’s bedroom. “Go on. Go take some rest.”

“Thank you so much, Mom.” Himiko stands up in an instant, barely able to conceal the excitement in her tone. At least she could do it, she could get her fix and think up new tricks, new miracles to perform—

“Oh, but I nearly forgot to mention. Our house’s WIFI is down right now. If you are thinking of using the Internet, you might want to put that on hold, since you seem to like doing that whenever you’re lying down on your bed.”

Himiko pauses seconds away from establishing a grip on the doorknob.

“We, we don’t have any Internet right now?”

“That’s right, Himiko-chan. Don’t worry though, it’s getting fixed soon. The technician won’t come in on Sundays, so you will have to wait for tomorrow.”

A drumming rhythm starts on her right leg, and it takes Himiko a moment to realize it’s her own right index finger tapping on it, for absolutely no necessity. If anything, however, the realization only speeds up her tapping.

“So. I see. That’s fine, honestly, I see no problem with that. Thank you for telling me, however, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, Himiko-chan.”

 

★

 

Himiko scrolls through the gallery on her phone with distinct disinterest she has no need to mask inside her own bedroom.

Maybe she should have downloaded a few more photos. Or videos. Didn’t they just upload the first part of the third class trial for the second season? She should have downloaded it while she can. Now all she could do is scrambling to remember any fragment of the dialogues and actions she could piece together as a coherent picture.

Shit. Shit shit shit fuck she should have done that. The second half of the trial is landing tomorrow night. There’s no way she could remember enough now to be prepared for the reveal of the killer. She has to—

She has to. Check out the execution and other possibly relevant stuff.

What was that she really needs again? Right. The execution. All the flashy stuff they put up, the miracles they pulled. It’s a brutal series of miracles that end with someone dead, but a miracle is a miracle. Miracles are what she works.

The miracles are those executions. That’s why she has to watch it.

Right. It wasn’t about the trials or the characters. They are just attached benefits.

Right.

Himiko clutches the phone into her sleep, where deep in the throes of the darkness, there are all the fireworks and blood spatters to constitute her miracles.

 

★

 

“Good morning, Himiko-chan. You have to get up for school.”

“Okay okay,” Himiko rubs her eyes rather roughly before registering where she is. Her bedroom. Did she spend the night sleeping instead of working on anything?

“Mom! Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You fell asleep holding the phone, so I assumed Himiko-chan must be too tired to work on anything. You should always get more sleep, you know—

Nothing past that point has made its way into Himiko’s mind, as she remembers only one thing. _WIFI’s working again._

“Mom, is it fine for me to use the net now?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Himiko all but flips open her phone to the browser, fumbling to reach the bookmark row and clicking onto the website—

A blank page greets her.

Himiko checks the address bar again. There’s nothing wrong with the url, for sure. Maybe they’ve moved to a different page? Or could it be, she made another mistake somewhere—

“Himiko-chan? You have to get ready for school—”

“I’m getting ready,” _Getting ready to explode._ “Don’t worry about me!”

In hushed footsteps Himiko rushes out of the apartment, watching the WIFI bar scale down. Pressing down on the reload button won’t do jack now anyway. Himiko shuts her phone off for the day.

 

★

 

She’s back home. The WIFI works perfectly well. All of these are for sure.

The website is still blank.

The words “404 Bad Gateway” are still ardently, persistently printed in the white backdrop of the website, with nothing else to adorn it or even indicate the original purpose of the site.

What can she do about this at this point? Scream? Cry? Any particularly emotional response that would suggest she’s not a calm, collected miracle worker everyone thought she is? The talented, hard-working daughter?

At the last resort, Himiko searches up Danganronpa on the first search engine she could grab. The first search result screams at her.

_Popular web show Danganronpa cancelled after the loss of further funding_

What. Fucking. Shit is that?

Every scroll she now takes only serves to pull her sinews tauter, blocking any semblance of calm to soothe her at all. Danganronpa is cancelled for a lack of funding. Funding, lack of money and other materials to keep on. Creators would like to apologize for gravely disappointing all of their fans. Might continue the second half of the third trial when opportunity strikes. When opportunity strikes. When.

Himiko shuts off the browser. Turns her eyes towards the ceiling. Breathes.

She closes her eyes, and bursts of colours flood the eigengrau of her eyelids.

The life of having nothing again, she’s watching it come back to her doorsteps as the colours fade.

 

★

 

“Himiko-chan, do you want to take a break from all these performances this month?”

Himiko looks up from her notebook. “What makes you think I would need that, mom?”

A bitter smile traces Mother’s expression. “You are starting secondary school soon enough. Even though letting you get to have all these performances are great experience for you to advance your dreams in the future, but now you will have to start focusing on your studies.”

“I can balance my studies and performances well.”

“Based on the frequency as of now, you definitely can’t, Himiko-chan,” Mother gives Himiko a notebook then, covering Himiko’s opened one. “Look at here, Himiko-chan. You have scheduled around eight performances every month, and recently you’ve even resorted to stuffing at least three performances every week. This can’t be well on your health or learning experience. Secondary school isn’t like elementary school, you have to focus on your studies now so you can—”

“So I can become cleverer and do even better as a professional magician in the future, isn’t it?” Himiko snaps back, an edge in her tone that scares Mother into stopping. “What I’m doing now, I do them all for fun and to become better and better at performing as a magician, so what’s wrong in all that? It’s all beneficial to my future career!”

“Himiko-chan, you would honestly be quite short-sighted to assume such a thing,” Mother frowns slightly, her voice gradually rising in volume as well. “Pursuing your studies should always be your first priority, at least way until you are an adult. Without any knowledge, you can do no such thing as—”

“I don’t need anything to better my future other than becoming the best magician this world has ever seen,” Himiko gestures to her entire bedroom, decked with different props she has collected and created over the years. “This is the only thing I will need to do in my life, isn’t it? Become the best in the world of professional magicians? I don’t need studies. I don’t need any of that.”

Mother’s frown deepens, and she balls her fists in a non-obvious way until she releases them at long last with a sigh. “I won’t schedule any more performances for you this whole month. You will be getting used to secondary school as you should.”

Himiko stomps down on the ground, a cry of frustration finished building in her throat. “You just don’t like how my performances are the last few months, so you think I’m a disgrace now isn’t it! Isn’t that the only reason why you are stopping me now of all time!”

“Your performances have always been flawless, but that doesn’t mean you get to keep on and on and on like now. It has to stop somewhere.” Mother turns her back on Himiko now, walking out of the room and shutting the door with a little more force than usual, as if that would be her last scathing remark.

Himiko turns back to the notebook, the urge to slam her face against it immense and building. She takes the schedule notebook Mother left and throws it into the rubbish bin, turning her attention back to her magic show notebook.

Only scribbles and messy lines adorn the pages now, as opposed to the many diagrams and captions she has so meticulously written down before.

Himiko takes a pencil and starts drawing lines over all the unwritten miracles. The show must go on. The show must not go on. The show must go on.

The sketched Danganronpa emblem has not escaped her attention, and Himiko takes mind to scribble over that properly before closing the notebook.

 

★

 

“Um, hello there?”

Himiko gets her head off the table lazily, misted eyes staring up at the caller. “What?”

“Are you that really popular kid magician that has been performing, and particularly famous for your own escape tricks?”

Himiko ponders the question with the sincerity of a fox hunting down a chicken. “Those are performance arts, not tricks.”

The boy asking the questions pretends to understand. “Oh. Right, of course, pardon me. Do you still do any of those performances? You know, I really admire you for all those tricks and performances, so I was wondering—”

“No, I don’t.” Himiko faces towards the window and sleeps back down on the table, an obvious sign that she has no more interest in the boy’s words.

“What’s wrong? Wasn’t it going amazingly? Why stop that all of a sudden?”

“I owe absolutely nobody any reasons here. I come to school for studying.”

“Oh but you know things are boring around here, right? Jeez, and I thought it’s lucky that I got to come to this school. Was thinking that my magician classmate would be much more fun—”

“Take your hand out.”

The boy stops. “What?”

“I said, take your hand out,” Himiko repeats with even less passion, sliding out a razor blade in the meantime.

“What, what are you doing with that knife?”

“Magic tricks. Didn’t you just say you wanna watch one? Right, I’m just asking you for that performance assistance, no big deal.”

“But I didn’t say—”

“If you think you didn’t say that or anything else why don’t you just shut it and leave me alone?” Himiko throws out the razor blade at that, accompanying the gesture with a stomp of her foot. The boy is finally intimidated enough, crying about her supposed insanity and running off.

Himiko retrieves the razor blade and buries it deep into her backpack. Why hadn’t she taken it out the night prior again? Anyway, she will just pass that off as her arts and crafts supplies. After she survived this so-called thing of a school life and comes back out on top, she will find herself a better blade.

 

★

 

“Yumeno-san? Can I copy your notes again?”

Himiko removes her cheeks from the notebook, a trail of slobber still running down her chin and a stream of anger running through her sinews. “How many times do I have to tell you, Chabashira, that I have no notes for you to copy off? And that one time was an accident that I got the notes.”

“But, Yumeno-san, if you don’t have the notes, how are you so comfortable sleeping in this class?” Chabashira sputters and looks back at the blackboard in a flit of panic before realizing that she too is losing progress for how long she’s speaking to Himiko. “Seriously, Yumeno-san, I’m terrified for your grades!”

“I will be the only one terrified about it, thank you.”

Chabashira watches Himiko’s head lower down on the table as she prepares to sleep once more, and sighs to herself. Yet, she makes no more arguments or attempts to bother Himiko, and Himiko is grateful for that at the very least. One of the very few perks of sitting next to Chabashira.

Even though Himiko has slept back down, there’s no denying all the thoughts swirling into the abyss and being choked up again into the terrain of her mind. No matter how much she doesn’t like to be reminded of it, all the red marks on her report card are going to catch up with her sooner or later.

 

★

 

“Why do you care about your academic performance so much anyway?”

Chabashira looks up from chewing her sandwiches, though before she could formulate a reply she can’t help but be perplexed. “Yumeno-san, I thought you don’t really care much about grades and academic stuff.”

“Never have, but it doesn’t mean I never will.” Himiko sits down next to Chabashira on the pavement, putting her chin in her propped hands. “I really really have never cared about that, but it doesn’t mean I can go on like that. Mom’s catching up with me on this.”

“Wait—You only start to care about your grades now because of your mom? You don’t want to study for your own future or anything?”

“I already have a future, Chabashira. I just need time far away from here to realize it.” Himiko takes a notebook out of her school bag. “But for now, I will need those good grades to appease my mom. And since you’re the only one stupid enough to talk to the Magician Drop-out, I will have to request lesson notes from you.”

Chabashira releases a guffaw that nearly causes her to choke on her sandwich then, as she slows down and attempts to drink some water before coming with a reply. “For sure, anytime, Yumeno-san.”

The two sit together and Himiko starts copying of off Chabashira’s notebook.

“So how exactly is studying important to you?”

Chabashira frowns at the question. “Hmm… Let’s put it like this. I think it’s the only thing that pushes me forwards into future.”

“Jeez, you sound just like Mom.” Himiko scowls at the notebook, noticing a grave mistake while saying that. “What is it with you people thinking only academic success will bring you anywhere?”

“That’s because it’s true, of course.” Chabashira looks down at her own notes again and reads them as fast as she could manage at the moment. “Sometimes it takes a lot out of you to acknowledge things that you have aren’t necessarily granted. Take my own health as an example.”

“Your health?”

“Right. Before I attended high school again I was a promising sports star, or at least that’s how my parents and local communities refer to me. I was very good at quite a lot of track events, so they were doing their best to bring a star out of me.” Chabashira chuckles bitterly, like remembering an unpleasant thing she used to regard as happiness. “Well, they only managed to make an ill star out of me more like. But so yeah, I fell from the scene, and I could only rely on academics to help me get back on track like everyone else.”

Himiko never once pauses while taking more lesson notes, but she unwittingly gives Chabashira’s backstory much more attention that she intends to. Make a star out of her? Relying on academics to get back on track? Every syllable is like a tentative push on the trigger, and should Chabashira say any more the trigger would have been pushed fully.

But not today. Himiko vows to herself quietly at that. She’s not giving Chabashira any more power on this matter. She will just have to finish copying the notes and hopes for the best.

 

★

 

Three subjects failed. Himiko doesn’t even want to imagine the look on anyone’s face when they stumble upon her report card.

It’s a good thing that she at least have copied those notes from Chabashira while she can. That saved several of her subjects.

No matter now. Maybe this would be a concrete proof to Mother once and for all that she should be left alone in the matters of how she should live her life.

 

★

 

“Yumeno-san?”

Himiko ignores the familiar voice from behind her back, her tears still overflowing and relentless, forming a small puddle around her bruised thighs.

“Yumeno-san, are you doing okay there? Can I help?”

“You can help by—” Himiko takes in a choking breath. “—by leaving me alone.”

“Yumeno-san! How could you say that! We are friends! I’d help you in any way possible—”

“And didn’t I just say you can help by leaving me alone? So leave me alone!”

Himiko has her face down the entire time, so she couldn’t see anything that’s going on, but surely Chabashira’s footsteps start to fade as she walks further and further away from her, no doubt.

Then a small piece of tissues appears in front of her.

“What is—”

“Yumeno-san, I understand that maybe most of the time you don’t really enjoy my company as well, but, there’s no way I’m gonna let a girl cry all by herself out here.”

Himiko lets out a small laugh. Against her wishes, Chabashira is still showing the most amount of care possible for friends. To continue pushing her away for no reasons seem ungrateful and even cruel.

“Thank you so much, Chabashira.”

“Anytime, Yumeno-san!” Chabashira sits down next to her then. Unfortunately, she also sees Himiko’s bruised skin immediately. “Wait… are you injured? Did you take care of them or were you just crying about this the whole time? Do I need to take you to the hos—”

“No, I’m fine,” Himiko replies, tugging her skirt a little lower at that, though to no avail. The bruised part still shows to a degree. “And my mom didn’t do anything, not really. I was just, like, crying and running out and tripped up really bad.”

Chabashira watches her explain with decidedly sympathetic eyes, and she nods, seemingly satisfied with Himiko’s explanation. “That’s good at least. When I saw it I was really afraid that your mom or dad or any other people like, you know…”

“Thank you for your concern, but nothing bad really happened. Mom did yell at me a little. I did fail three subjects out of seven, after all.”

“Nevertheless, it’s good they didn’t specifically hurt you or anything. And as for the failed subjects… Well…” Chabashira starts ruffling through her school bag then. What roughly looks like a wrinkled piece of paper appears.

“Is that your… ?”

“Yup! That’s my report card.” Chabashira hands the paper to Himiko. “Look! I only passed one subject!”

“Oh… I see.”

“So um, like, what I’m trying to tell you here, is that you shouldn’t mind this report card too much!” Chabashira grabs her report card back and starts rumpling it up despite Himiko’s protests, and then she throws it far away into the darkness of the road in front of them. “See? They are just grades given to us by our shitty teachers. They aren’t everything in the world.”

“But earlier you just told me—”

“Earlier is earlier and now is now, Yumeno-san! And for now, I’m telling you,” Chabashira stands up and takes in a deep breath, releasing it in a drawn-out puff. “Grades aren’t everything! And if anyone tells you they are, tell them to stuff it!”

“Chabashira…”

Himiko also stands up and joins Chabashira next to her. “Thank you so much, Chabashira. Everything you’ve said just now means much more than you thought possible.”

“Again, it’s no problem!”

“With that said though… you do know that you need your parents’ signatures on the report card for the teacher to look over, right?”

Chabashira’s brilliant smile vanishes in a heartbeat, replaced by eyes widened in terror and flailing arms trying to reach back out to the report card before she remembers she has discarded it into roaring traffic. Himiko laughs, following right behind her.

 

★

 

“Yumeno-san, have you ever heard about Danganronpa?”

In the span of a heartbeat, Himiko decides to face this question with dignity. Alas, her real response is only choking and making a mockery of herself. “I—What?”

“Danganronpa? You ever heard of it?”

There’s no use hiding the truth, yet Himiko reaches for that option anyway. “Um, not really? Should I have been old enough to know what it is?”

“Hmm, I think possibly? Personally, I’ve only heard little snippets of it once when my parents were discussing the show,” Chabashira puts her phone on the table, and lets Himiko see what’s displayed on it. “They were talking about it like it’s a web series kinda like a TV show? And how it is really mind-polluting and normal people wouldn’t really want to watch it anyway, so I largely avoided it myself. Looks like it’s back with a revenge.”

Himiko scrolls down on Chabashira’s phone and realizes that it is displaying something like a poster. The Danganronpa emblem is printed above clearly, and the darkened human shapes below it are adorned with pink blood. Pink blood. Of course, it would be pink blood.

“So, why exactly are you showing me this?”

“Do you remember that thing, like a certain law that passes some time earlier about assisted suicide or something?”

“You mean the Death Accord?”

“Yeah. That thing kinda helps to revive Danganronpa, or at least that’s what I heard.” Chabashira minimizes the poster and scrolls back to the top of the page so that Himiko can read the page title. _Danganronpa set to make return as reality TV show_

“Unlike that web series ages ago, it’s picked up by some corporation to make into a real version of Danganronpa, or at least that’s how they put it.” Chabashira takes another bite of her food as if she’s only explaining something mundane and ordinary. “Since this whole thing of assisted suicide is legal, they can go and recruit actual participants who want to experience Danganronpa.”

“But, but that would be actual murder—”

“Yeah, but that’s the thing about the Death Accord. It legalizes this whole thing about assisted suicide, so people who die in Danganronpa aren’t murdered. They will be known to have committed suicide.”

“But that’s insane! How can they just let that happen?”

Chabashira shrugs. “Honestly? Who even knows what is happening in this world at this point?”

Himiko nods in agreement to that, not that she feels like she has understood anything at all.

 

★

 

“When will you let me join performances again? I’m not that small anymore, I can take care of myself.”

Mother did not even remove her eyes from the television when she answers with a simple “no”.

Himiko senses a loop of yes’es and no’es coming. “Why wouldn’t you let me? I’m nearly going to have my university entrance exams, I’m not too young to handle myself!”

“That’s exactly why you can’t!” Mother becomes animated at that, turning the television to mute. “You’re going to have to have your entrance exams. Do you know how difficult entrance exams are? You should concentrate on everything you'll be tested on the exams, not performing outside for nothing!”

“I’m not performing for nothing. Why can’t I let the world see how good I have been getting in my craft? Do you even know how many more magic performances I have learnt to do that?”

Mother looks down with a sigh, signalling her conviction in ending this argument prematurely. “You shouldn’t let you side hobby distract you like this, Himiko-chan. I’m happy that you have a passion for that, but it has to end somewhere sometime for life.”

“Why does it have to end if that’s what I would love to do for the rest of my life?”

Silence hangs heavy in the room again. Himiko stares hard at her mom with defiant, teary eyes, and Mother simply heaves another sigh.

“Himiko-chan, please pursue something you really like, not something you get too into in your early life.”

“I don’t get what that means. I’ve only ever wanted to be a magician and you know that!”

Himiko stomps out of the hall, expecting the signature sigh from Mother to sound again. Instead, she heard a sob.

 

★

 

_When Himiko was younger she had interviews everywhere in primary schools to win a chance to study there._

_They all loved to ask Himiko what she wants to be in the future and why._

_Himiko didn’t have many alternatives in her answers; it always circled right back to magic._

_“I want to be a magician!”_

_“And why is that your main aspiration?”_

_Himiko hadn’t needed much time to think about that either._

_“Because I want people to be happy! Simply because of that!”_

_Or at least the first time, that’s how she answered; because after that Mother had specifically told her how she should expand further on her answer in order to leave a better impression on the assessors. But the core message of those answers never treads far from the original: that it’s because Himiko wants to see people smile. To make them happy._

_Some of the days before Himiko has gotten good enough that Mother deems her a capable performer, some of her classmates who had been enthralled by her performance occasionally ask her even more philosophical questions regarding her profession. What it takes to be a magician. Why she would choose to be a magician than any other easier field to study._

_Himiko usually had an answer for all of them, except one._

_“Is being a magician really your only end goal? Do you have no other aspirations or alternatives that might take its place in a more effective manner?”_

_Is it truly the only reason? Himiko had spent several nights thinking about that, before letting the question drown in the darkness of her sleep._

_But now it’s back with a vengeance, along with Danganronpa._

 

★

 

“Yumeno-san? What university do you think you will go to?”

Himiko rubs through her notebook, the one that is used to fill to the brims with magic trick ideas—and she uses the word “trick”, because there’s no other way to refer to it—the one that started becoming bare when the original Danganronpa stops airing.

“I don’t really want to go to any university.”

“Huh? But, Yumeno-san, what do you want to be if you are not going to university? Surely you are not thinking about Danganronpa, are you?”

Himiko chuckles. “I’m going to be a proper entertainer, a magician. I’m not stupid enough to push myself into a death game that might have been rigged anyway.”

“But if you are going to be a magician, you should still—”

“Chabashira. I’m not going to let myself rot in a school where I learn more unimportant things there until I forgot how to do magic tricks. I’m going to give myself a name out there.”

“Did your mom agree though? Do you already have anywhere you can go to perform or something?”

“... I can figure those stuff out soon enough.”

That’s right. Why hasn’t she thought of that earlier? She never needs any official permission from Mother to do anything. She could develop her magician career all by herself.

 

★

 

In retrospect, Himiko ponders as her ice cream gradually melts off while she continues waiting for a phone call that never comes, the moment she realizes there’s no applause or cheer to one of her oldest and most impressive performances, she should have known it’s the beginning of the end.

“Is that all you have, Yumeno-san?”

“That, that is one of my oldest and most impressive tricks. Everyone who has ever seen it—”

“Well, unfortunately, your definition of ‘everyone’ doesn’t exactly fit in here,” The troupe scout gives a small sigh at that, as if he understands the vexation that is plaguing Himiko now and is doing the minimum to express sympathy. “We realize that you might have had past credentials for your previous series of performances, I am afraid they are yet to really fit—”

“Are you sure? Can you really not even reconsider—”

“We are really very sorry to say that, Yumeno-san. But our response will remain to be ‘No’.”

 

★

 

_The first time Himiko failed in a magic performance, her dad had just gone away._

_There’s no clue as to where he has gone, merely that one day he was still cooking pancakes in the kitchen happily discussing the potential of applying more maple syrup to create an even better pancake for afternoon tea, the next day he left nothing but a slip of paper and a voice-recording pen full of regret._

_But no regret has been able to turn Himiko’s mom around, reading and listening to what he has left behind only left what might have been a deep hollow in Himiko’s mom. And one day Himiko’s mom was happily talking with her business partners on the next grand project, the next day it’s Mother who has taken up the holy mission of raising the miracle worker she comes to know as Himiko-chan._

_But there is no Himiko-chan. The next day, Himiko was still Himiko. But on just that day, Himiko was also Himiko who has failed her magic trick for the very first time, one manoeuvre while moving away from a joker card way too slow and being torn apart by the audience when it happened. Granted, it was just a group of kids innocently pointing out a small mistake any amateur like Himiko would make any day, but it has felt like an insult, like a small knife opening a gash into her. The ensuing laughter has felt like the knife twisted._

_Mother hasn’t watched the performance at the very least, and she was still tapping away messages on her phone while asking Himiko about her day. And lying about what really happened is easier when she didn’t need to look at Mother in the eye._

_“How was the performance today? Got anything wrong or stuff?”_

_“No, Mother. It went quite smoothly.”_

_Mother snapped her phone shut then._

_“Only quite smoothly?”_

_Himiko rapped her slightly bruised left index finger against the car window._

_“No, it went all very smoothly. Nothing goes wrong at all.”_

_Himiko saw the flame red smile from the car mirror inside._

_“That’s really nice, Himiko-chan.”_

 

★

 

“Yes, I failed the last five auditions with all the theatre troupes I could look for. I’m sorry all your onigiri ended up wasted for nothing.”

Chabashira smiles, still smiles that signature smile she always has reserved for girls. “That’s nothing! Yumeno-san is my best friend, so I wouldn’t ever mind helping my best friend out! Let’s hope tomorrow you can find an even better troupe that will finally see how amazing you are!”

“Right…” Himiko wolfs down another onigiri, and her response is anything but enthusiastic. If Chabashira has noticed anything, she didn’t say it. “I will work on that again tomorrow.”

Much to Himiko’s chagrin, Chabashira did notice something, evidenced by the frown she just has, her lips moving to unleash the dreaded question. “Are you okay, Yumeno-san? You seem rather upset.”

“I promise you I’m not.”

Chabashira pauses in taking up her own backpack in preparation to leave. For a moment, Himiko’s sure that Chabashira will intrude on her already fragile grip on composure. But then she merely gives Himiko another nod and a goodbye, and Himiko is once again left to ruminate over her many collections of failures.

 

★

 

_Danganronpa took her inspiration away with it. Himiko was convinced of that._

_The timeframe coincided with Mother telling her to quit performing outside, so there’s no genuine harm done at all. And yet, even when she had tried to console herself with that, the shadows of her failures hung overhead._

_Why has her inspiration died? Surely a little web series of people murdering each other shouldn’t have been the real reason, could it? It has been_ a _source of inspiration, but it’s not like it’s_ the _source of inspiration._

_Himiko stares down at her notebook of magic trick ideas again. The depleting amount, however, could only testify to the truth that she is running out of ideas._

_In almost perfect soap opera fashion, Himiko looks up at the photo frame she has on her bedside._

_The frame has inside the photo of Himiko’s very first magic performance in the kindergarten, during a variety show the teachers organized. After the show, the teachers gathered up all the performers and their parents for a photo._

_Inside this photo, Himiko and her mom occupied very little space, just as many other kids and their parents, their smiles only seem to paint a genuine picture when they are all patched together like this photo._

_But even so, Himiko could taste the sweet happiness emanating from her mom’s smile, in particular. The one that not only proud parents wear, but ones that are worn by parents who are happy because their children are happy._

_How long has it been since Himiko could see that smile? Since when did it completely vanish?_

_Himiko lets her eyes wander between the Danganronpa emblem drawn inside the notebook and the brilliant smile her mom once possessed. Then just at the smile in the photo._

_How easily missed it is. How far away she is with it now._

 

★

 

“What are you watching?”

Himiko turns off the television immediately, though deep down she knows she will catch a reprimand for such conspicuous actions anyway. “Nothing.”

“Is it Danganronpa?”

Himiko swallows, but she sells nothing away, or at least she hopes she has not, by taking up the notebook she has on the table and starts flipping through its empty pages thoughtlessly.

Mother walks over to the sofa and sits beside her, but instead of checking if Himiko is pretending to be revising, she turned on the television again.

“I heard today’s episode is pretty good.”

“Mom, why are you… Why did you turn it back on?”

“It’s simple, Himiko-chan. I want to watch this show too.”

“You, you don’t hate stuff like that?”

Mother heaves a heavy sigh and lies back down on the sofa, letting out the tension in her shoulders with every syllable she spills. “In this time and age, what’s the meaning of rejecting things like that? Might as well go with the time.”

A surge of something like disgust and perplexion vortexes its way into Himiko’s throat, an emotion she has no way of making known or releasing. Not even flipping through the notebook helps at all.

So Himiko caves and watches it alongside Mother.

 

★

 

Everything is almost the same… Except that it is real.

The blood is still pink, but as far as Himiko knows it’s due to censors forcing it to be pink so it won’t be rated too high and be placed at a different time slot.

Another thing is different though. Mother is watching it with her.

And as much as Himiko wants to pretend it’s not real, there’s always an upward curve of a smile on Mother’s face when the executions go on. Like a miracle.

 

★

 

“So you are not going to try looking for chances to perform anymore?”

Himiko takes a slow deliberate bite of Chabashira’s onigiri. Lest she can’t taste its uniquely soggy texture and distinct salty taste again in the distant future. “No. I’m gonna listen to mom and focus on other things I should focus on.”

“Like looking for universities to apply and to prepare for the entrance exams?” Chabashira’s hopeful smile is too much to bear.

“Right, that’s right.” It’s always easier to lie when you don’t look at the other person in the eye.

 

★

 

It takes Himiko some time to realize it, but several muscles in her face always push her lips up to form a smile too when the culprit dies in the most brutal fashions imaginable. It’s not that hard to imagine why.

 

★

 

Even from a young age, Himiko knows she’s not a model realist. She won’t use words like ‘down to earth’ to describe herself, though she does do her best to be one.

She started building her own career since she’s young, gathering so much experience no others among her peers could quite relate to. From a young age, she’s doing what she wants, being the best at what she wants to be, and already on the road of being the most successful person she has known personally in her life.

But it’s all a lie, isn’t it? All along, it has been a sleepless dream to have pursued this road. To have thought she was doing what she wanted. To think she could work miracles all alone, for people she loves.

No humans are genuine miracle workers. Not alone, not when they have to work all by themselves, anyway.

 

★

 

“So, what role do you think you would like to have, and oh-my-gosh I nearly forget; your talent too if you have ideas for one?”

“Mage. I mean, magician.” Himiko coughs, trying desperately to right her composure upon the slip. “I want to be someone who isn’t grounded by reality… Someone who has the power to pursue whatever they want, even in the horrors of a killing game, someone who can work even miracles between everyone else.”

“Hmm well, we will have to think about how best to fulfil that and not to make it too unreasonable.” The receptionist’s smile strains for a second before retaining its happiness again. “Right. These are the forms that will confirm that you are joining the show. If we selected you, you can take this form here to confirm that you are indeed a participant of Danganronpa Season 53. Just sign on this form and give the green one to your legal guardians. You don't need their consent on this, just let them have it as evidence of you going to the show.”

“I see. Thank you very much.”

 

★

 

Himiko takes every bit of caution she has in shredding the green form into complete dust.

.

.

.

.

.

Himiko lives in dreams far more often than reality, the periphery of them broad and ever-expanding and accepting of everything but the cruel reality itself.

But sometimes there are blocks to the dreams. Other people trying to initiate a conversation with her. Other people pestering her.

The cadaver of Chabashira Tenko in front of her.

It always feels like a gigantic claw has clamped down onto her and removes her from the grip of those dreams before the dreams whisper hard and alluring enough to draw her in, where Amami Akamatsu Hoshi Toujou and Chabashira—

—Chabashira from back then and Chabashira from now and—

—will see to it that her dreams will never stop ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> looking back at my older chapters and i'm genuinely like?? shocked by how much more i write nowadays? at this point i have no idea how to write anything less than 5k lmao
> 
> anyway hope u enjoy, comments and kudos are appreciated!!!


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